


Sin in the House of God

by Ltleflrt



Series: Sin in the House of God [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Demon Dean, Demon!Dean, Demonic Possession, Dubious Consent, M/M, Priest Castiel, Priest!Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 23:58:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ltleflrt/pseuds/Ltleflrt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has loved his best friend Dean since childhood, but he never did anything about it because Dean doesn't go for men.  But even though he is now a priest, he still dreams....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sin in the House of God

**Author's Note:**

> I was so drunk when I wrote this. So very drunk. Mm, rum.

Soft red lips burned a trail down his chest, stopping to suckle gently at random intervals.  He knew there would be marks left, but he didn’t protest.  Each one was a claim, and Castiel craved them.  They would affirm what he already knew.

His body belonged to Dean Winchester.

As did his heart, and his soul.

When those lips drifted lower, toward where Castiel needed them most, he sent up a prayer.  It should have been a prayer of forgiveness, but instead it was a plea for more.

Castiel jerked awake with a gasp.  His lungs froze, holding the air in for a long moment before he let it out in a long exhale.  He rubbed a hand over his face, wincing at the stubble that scratched at his palm, and turned to look at the clock.  It was just past midnight, hours before he needed to be up, but he knew if he closed his eyes again the dream might return.  

Guilt clogged his throat, and he bit into his palm as a form of self punishment.  He had been a priest for years now, and Dean…

Dean who had been his best childhood friend, had never shown a sliver of interest in him.  Yet the dreams still came, despite more than a decade of watching the man he loved fall into the arms of woman after woman.  Despite accepting that Dean would never be more than his friend. 

Despite his vows of abstinence under the eyes of God.

Castiel sighed and rolled out of bed.  He wasn’t going to sleep for what was left of the night.  He might as well find something to distract himself from memories of the dream.  In minutes he was up, and dressed.  The collar at his throat a firm reminder of the choices he had made in life.

The little church that he watched over did not actually need him to clean it, but the simple actions of sweeping and dusty calmed him as it always did.  The scent of wax and wood polish filled his senses, and it soothed the restlessness in his limbs.  

He had been working for less than an hour when the sound of the large wooden doors opening brought Castiel’s attention to the front of the church.  He frowned in confusion.  The church was open twenty four hours, but his parish was in a small town, and the residents were not the type to be up all night.  

The man who stepped through the door was familiar, and Castiel’s heart skipped a beat.  “Dean?” Worry tinged his voice.  He had not seen his friend in months.  Churches were not really the kind of place Dean Winchester frequented, and Castiel did not venture out into town very often anymore.  “What are you-?”

“Hey, Cas.”

Castiel froze.  The voice was right, but the inflection was… not Dean.

A wide grin spread across the man’s face.  It was cocky and flirty and everything that was Dean Winchester.  But the eyes, where the real Dean’s heart and soul usually shone bright and vivid, were dull and lifeless.  Castiel took a step back.  “Who are you?”

It was disturbing to see the laugh lines around this man’s eyes as he chuckled in a mockery of the man he resembled.  “Is that any way to greet a friend, Cas?”

“You are  _not_  my friend,” Castiel hissed.  He took a step back as Dean’s doppleganger stepped closer to him.

“And how do you know that?” Not-Dean rasped.

The husky tone was the same one that had haunted Castiel’s dreams since he’d first realized he was in love with his best friend.  “I know my friend.”  His voice shook, and he barely recognized it as his own.

Not-Dean’s smile widened.  He blinked, revealing his true nature with pitch black eyes.  “Dean-o insisted I wouldn’t be able to fool you.  It appears he was right.”

“Who  _are you?_ ” Castiel hissed.

The creature paused a few feet from Castiel.  Although it’s black eyes showed no pupil, it was obvious when he looked around.  It’s lip twitched up in a sneer of disgust before it’s eyes dropped down to meet Castiel’s gaze again.  It’s mouth twisted into a smile that would never grace Dean’s features.  “Do you really not know?”

Castiel’s eyes dropped away from the creature’s mocking stare and he took another step back.  The broom he held clattered loudly to the floor when it slipped from his numb fingers.  “That shouldn’t be possible.  This is the house of God.  Demons cannot enter-”

“Not on our own,” the demon said, it’s voice husky and pitched low.  Despite the terror bubbling up inside Castiel, his body still reacted to the rich tones of Dean’s voice.  “But with the right vessel…”  

It paced forward, its movements slow and deliberate.  Castiel was strongly reminded of a predator stalking its next meal.

He only wished he didn’t feel like the prey.

“What do you want?”  His voice cracked on the last word.  He took one more step, and his shoulders came up against the pulpit.  

“Me?  I don’t want anything.”  The demon blinked again.  Its eyes shifted back to Dean’s vibrant green.  “I’m only here to fulfill a wish.”  Only a few steps separated them, and it moved forward, crowding Castiel.  Its voice was smug.  “Nowhere to run, my pretty little lamb…”

Castiel swallowed and pressed back into the wood.  He began to pray, whispering familiar words under his breath and closing his eyes.  He refused to look at the demon.  It hurt to see Dean’s features twisted by so much evil.  

“Mmm prayer,” the demon whispered.

Castiel jumped.  The voice was right at his ear, and hot breath spread over his jaw.

“Forgive me Father,” the demon breathed.  “I’m about to sin…”

The prayers spilling from Castiel’s lips stuttered to an end when warm lips pressed against his jaw.  He’d imagined for years how it would feel, but it was so much better than what his mind could conjure.  His breath hitched as they slid along his skin, eventually brushing against the corner of his mouth.

The demon clucked it’s tongue.  “No more prayers?  Do you not wish to be saved?”

Castiel opened his mouth, unsure exactly what he would say to such an accusation, but it didn’t matter.  The demon slipped it’s tongue past his lips, and Castiel was lost.

He moaned into the kiss.  His hands came up of their own accord and fisted in the leather jacket that Dean had worn since his father had given it to him after their high school graduation.  Dean tasted of whiskey and something sweet that Castiel couldn’t identify.  

 _No, this is_ not _Dean_! his mind screamed.  

But his body didn’t listen.  It had yearned for this for so long….

Tension drained out of his limbs and the only reason his knees didn’t collapse beneath him was because Dean was pressed against him, holding him up.  Castiel tilted his head and returned the kiss.  He had no experience with this, but it was a simple matter to press his tongue back against the one invading his mouth.

A growl emanated from Dean’s chest, rumbling into Castiel.  Their mouths clashed again and again, separating only so they could suck in short breaths.

Strong hands slid over Castiel’s hips, pulling them forward to grind against Dean.  The bulge pressing against him made Castiel gasp.  Shame made him whimper when he felt his own body react, hardening under the cloth of his slacks.  

“Mmm, so eager,” the demon murmured against his lips.  “It looks like Dean is not the only one who wished for this…”

Castiel jerked his head back and blinked in confusion.  “What?”

Once again, the demon’s smile sent a shiver of revulsion down Castiel’s spine.  “You didn’t know…” it said in wonder.  Delight laced it’s words.  “Dean has always wanted you.  He loves you.  But he didn’t realize it until too late.” Damp lips brushed against Castiel’s.  “He’s in here… screaming for me to stop.  But I know his secret.  He wants this as much as you do.”

“No,” Castiel moaned.

The demon chuckled and pressed his hips forward again.  “Your body betrays you, Priest.”

Castiel wanted to protest, but his mouth was captured again.  And it was true.  His body was betraying him.  Dean’s smell - leather, sweat, whiskey, and car grease - invaded him, and he was lost.  Instead of pushing the creature away, Castiel pulled him close.  

Strong hands that had only ever gripped Castiel’s in friendship began to explore.  Soon, they were slipping under Castiel’s clothing, pulling it away an item at a time.  Guiding him to the floor.

The polished wood was cold against Castiel’s back, but the body that draped over him made him burn.  Each touch left fire in it’s wake.  Each kiss was a flame against his skin.  

The fires of Hell were not nearly as painful as Castiel had been brought up to believe.

When he was naked, his body covered in sweat and tingling with lust, the creature wearing Dean’s features stared down at him.  Green eyes nearly glowed with satisfaction as they traced Castiel’s body.  “Such a waste to pledge this body to God.  He doesn’t even appreciate your sacrifice, you know…”

Castiel closed his eyes against the demon’s smirk.  He wanted to push it away, but his traitorous body arched up, and a broken sound slipped from his mouth.

“Shhh,” the demon soothed.  A shiver ran through Castiel as warm lips pressed against the skin over his heart.  They began to make a path down the center of his torso.  “Dean and I will take care of you.”

Castiel cried out when those lips touched him in a way he had only ever imagined before.  Wet heat surrounded him, and his hips jerked upward.  His eyes snapped open and he lifted his head.  He knew it wasn’t Dean sucking him hard and deep, but that didn’t stop him from slipping his hands into sandy blonde hair.  “Oh God,” he moaned as his eyes rolled back and his head dropped back to the floor with a dull thud.

The dark chuckle his words elicited sent spikes of pleasure through him.  His body, unused to this kind of stimulation, betrayed him even further and he cried out as an orgasm swept through him.  

His fingers relaxed and slipped free of Dean’s hair, and his arms dropped to his side.  Castiel stared blankly at the church’s ceiling as the horror of what had just happened to him sank in.  The hot mouth that had brought him so much pleasure released him, and the demon wearing Dean’s body sat back on its heels.  

“Beautiful,” it murmured as it wiped a wrist across it’s mouth.  

And then with a sound that was half scream, half laugh, the demon tilted Dean’s head back.  A cloud of black  _something_  spewed from his mouth.  It flowed up toward the ceiling, where it curled around before sliding like a snake toward the nearest window and slipping through a crack in the glass that Castiel had known needed to be fixed for months now.

A sob, brought Castiel’s eyes back to Dean.

“Oh my God, Cas,” he whimpered.  His eyes swept over Castiel’s body and they were full of so much anguish and self hatred, that it was painful to look at him.  “I’m so sorry.  God, Cas, I’m  _so sorry.”_

Castiel didn’t react as Dean pulled him into his arms.  Dean rocked him, whispering prayers for forgiveness, both to God and to Castiel.

Eventually, he gained enough control of his body to reach up and wrap his arms around Dean’s waist.  He wanted to say it was okay.  He wanted to tell Dean it wasn’t his fault.  But he couldn’t speak, he was too focused on his own thoughts.

 _I wanted this,_  a traitorous voice whispered in the back of his mind.   _There is nothing to forgive._


End file.
